


Tethered

by malevolent_muse



Category: The Witch Hunter - Candace Adams
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Biblical Scripture References (Abrahamic Religions), Bondage, Historical References, M/M, Rape, Rimming, Witch Hunter General, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malevolent_muse/pseuds/malevolent_muse
Summary: It is the middle of the 17th century and, as the Witch Hunter General, Matthew Hopkins has a duty to both King and country to eradicate out those guilty of practicing witchcraft. He is resolute in his purpose, that is until he meets Taryn Guthry, a 21st century young woman who has fallen through time. Her influence has caused him to stray from his path, much to dismay of his long time lieutenant, John Stearne.*This story is based off of a newly released book. Don't worry, you won't need to have read it before diving into this tale.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	Tethered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CandaceAdams64](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandaceAdams64/gifts).



“Let us take a brief recess,” John said, unexpectedly.

“Really? Now?” Matthew inquired.

The pair of them were in the middle of interrogating one of the women accused of witchcraft and now seemed an inopportune moment to take a break from their work.

“Yes, Mr. Hopkins, now,” John insisted formally as he physically pulled the quill from Matthew’s hand and laid it on the table.

Not wanting to show evidence of how fractured their partnership had become in front of the guards or even the accused woman, the witch hunter general did not openly disagree with his lieutenant. Instead, he merely sighed as he carefully blotted the still drying ink on the pages of his ledger.

“Very well, John,” Matthew said, getting to his feet and eyeing his colleague, “as you wish.”

John Stearne had been his friend and companion for many years and, consequently, Matthew felt like he knew the man better than most. And at the moment, it was quite clear that John had something on his mind as he wordlessly stalked out of the cell. Heaving another sigh, Hopkins got up and followed.

The pair of them walked the halls of Colchester castle in silence. Eventually, John stepped into an unoccupied room and ushered Matthew inside before closing the door.

“What is this about. John?” Hopkins questioned. “We are in the middle of interrogations and, as I recall, this is the part of the process you are particularly talented at performing. You relish bringing the souls, that the Devil himself has polluted, to the good Lord’s justice.”

“And I, whole-heartedly, would prefer to be interrogating those women right now but I would be remiss if I did not speak my mind to you. To be honest, Matthew, I am greatly troubled.”

“By a witch?”

“Yes, of course by a witch,” Stearne snipped.

“Whom of the prisoners is giving you grief?”

“That’s the problem, Matthew. She’s not one of our prisoners,” John relayed. The look on his face was dark and his tone of voice clear.

“You are referring to Miss Guthry, aren’t you? John,” Hopkins admonished, “she is not a witch. As we are the ones that found her in her time of need, it is our Christian duty to provide her with safekeeping.”

“Since when has the safekeeping of a woman like her required you to utilize your cock?”

Matthew’s jaw fell open. Despite knowing John could be rather uncouth at times, he was shocked that his friend would speak to him in such a manner. Especially considering that earlier in the week John had encouraged the sort of behavior he was now condemning. This shift of stance seemed quite out of character.

“What is the matter with you, man?” Hopkins argued.

“The matter is that you have changed! You used to trust me. Now you are supervising my interrogations like I am some apprentice, green at the gills. Not only that, but you are also questioning my techniques. Techniques, may I remind you, that have led to numerous confession in the many towns we have travelled to in our time together. We can not lessen our measures of thwarting the Devil and his witches.”

Stearne had gone red in the face and there was a vein on his forehead that Matthew could see pulsing with every beat of the other man’s heart. It was clear that his lieutenant was passionate about the issue. Rubbing his hand across his face, the witch hunter general took a deep breath before trying to calm the man down.

“We are not lessening our measures. I am merely trying to balance duty and compassion.”

“Compassion?” John balked, “Since when have you ever shown compassion towards agents of evil. Taryn has bewitched you, Matthew! Why can’t you see that?”

It was good that they were in a secluded part of the castle where no one could hear them because Hopkins’ temper was quickly rising to meet John’s.

“Because it’s not true! Seriously, who is the expert here? Me or you? Or did you forget that I was doing this long before you came along?”

Stearne’s answer was swift and unyielding, “I haven’t forgotten our duty to God and country. But the way you sympathize with her and bend to her every demand, it is clear that not only have you forgotten but you’ve gone soft as well.”

The accusations his colleague was hurling had finally crossed the line. It was one thing to question Taryn, she was a just woman after all. But, as the Witch Hunter General and the only formally educated man in the room, Matthew could not stand for such disrespect and insubordination.

“If that is how you feel, John, then you are free to take your leave of my employment. You are dismissed!”

“Fuck you, you coward!” Stearne yelled, giving Hopkins a shove. “I have always been your friend and this is how you repay me?!”

Forced to take a step back so he could retain his balance, Matthew did not allow John to get the better of him.

“A real FRIEND would be supportive of my relationship with Taryn,” he responded. “You have only tried to tear down the woman I love.”

“That is because she doesn’t love you!” John all but screamed as he pulled out a knife.

Seeing the sharp blade, Matthew felt like all the air in the room had gone still and heavy.

“John, what are you doing? Put that away.”

Instead of listening to him, his colleague took a step closer and Hopkins took a step back. This continued until his back was against the wall and the knife was at his throat.

“She doesn’t love you, Matthew. I do.”

John’s nose was merely a hairsbreadth from his own and Matthew expected the man to spit in his face. What his lieutenant did instead shocked him to his very core.

Matthew’s eyes went wide as John’s chapped lips, slick with spittle, forcefully met his own. The sensation was unpleasant and unremarkable except for the fact that it made his stomach churn with disgust. With little regard to the knife at this throat, he instinctively shoved John away from him.

Pinpricks of pain beneath his chin bade his attention and Hopkins brought his hand to his throat. Pulling it away a moment later, he could see the bright red smear of his own blood across his fingertips.

Breathing heavily, he hissed, "Are you insane, man? Whatever you feel for me is NOT love. It is a sin against nature, a sin against God himself.”

“I don’t care,” Stearne said through clenched teeth, his grip still tight on the handle of his knife. “You’ve already defiled yourself by laying with that witch. The corruption of your soul is absolute. It shouldn’t matter to you to fully debase yourself now.”

“Debase myself? John, you can’t be serious. You realize the implications of your actions, don’t you? If anyone saw what you just did, you would be strung up for being a sodomite.”

“Better a sodomite than a witch’s whore.”

John stepped closer once again and Matthew blanched but did not move. Instead, he took a firm stance against the man threatening him with violence and immorality.

“I rather die,” he declared.

He could practically see his companion’s eyes gleam red at this pronouncement and Matthew wondered if, in fact, it was not the women who were under the influence of the devil but instead his old friend.

John lunged forward.

Hopkins ducked and scurried forward in a crouched position.

The blade cut through the air above his head but missed him as Matthew scrambled towards the door.

“Guards!” he yelled as he moved to get away from Stearne as quickly as possible.

Out of the pair of them, John was the quicker and more fit one. He was, after all, the brawn of their operation. Matthew was a man of learning, he had never had to hold his own against someone trained in the art of combat. And yet he was not afraid. If he could hold his own against drunken ruffians and hell-spawned hags, then he could keep John off of him long enough for him to escape the situation.

His hand on the handle of the door, he felt the cording of a rope suddenly whip around this throat.

Immediately, his hands flew to the braided cords and pulled at them whilst at the same time he kicked at the man coming up behind him. Unperturbed, John pulled the rope tighter and tighter. Matthew fell against the stone floor, gasping for what little air he could get into his lungs.

It seemed the world around him was going dark but he saw no reason for him to give up his efforts. Flailing against his attacker, Matthew wondered if he would ever see Taryn’s face again.

And then everything really did go dark.

This was it.

This was the end.

No more living.

No more breathing.

No more striving for a purpose.

No more purpose at all.

Just darkness.

Empty darkness.

Alone.

Alone in the dark.

Gasping in a lungful of air, Matthew’s body jerked to life.

Finding himself still on the cold stone floor, the witch hunter general tried to scream but nothing more than rasping noises fell from his lips.

Behind him, he could hear a man huff loudly.

“You gave me quite the scare, Matthew. I thought for a moment you were dead.”

Try as he might, Hopkins could not reply, his throat raw and aching. Still, he was not one to be complicit in his own defeat and he made to get up onto his feet. It was then he realized his arms were bound behind him with the same rope John had used to nearly choke the life out of him; the same rope John used to tether witches together as they had dragged them behind their carriage.

His legs thrashing uselessly on against the floor, the witch hunter general found he could not right himself.

“John,” he managed to growl, “let me go!”

Catching a glimpse of John’s face as the man hovered over him, Matthew’s stomach lurched at the wicked sneer plastered across his colleague’s face.

Stearne's hands were sure and deft as he flipped Matthew onto his stomach, leaving the witch hunter general to squirm on his belly like a fish out of water.

“This will go easier on you if you relax,” John tutted with a click of his tongue.

Feeling the other man’s hands yank at the long tails of his shirt, Matthew’s mind was quick to surmise what the lieutenant had in store for him.

“John,” he reasoned, his voice coming out in little more than a hoarse whisper, “this is wrong.”

“It was wrong of me not to do this long ago,” John replied as his fingers made quick work of the lacing of Matthew’s trousers. “My only regret is that you won’t enjoy this as much as I will.”

His emotions rising, Matthew closed his eyes and tried to call for help once more. It was then that he felt a final tug and the touch of cool air against the skin of his backside.

A sob broke from his throat as he could barely move as the weight of the man he once considered his friend pressed down on him.

“Matthew, calm down.”

The kindness and compassion in Stearne’s tone was clearly a farce and Matthew tried to disassociate himself from what was happening. The weight on his back lifted but still, he remained relatively immobile as John straddled his body.

A firm grip on both of his ass cheeks elicited a whimper as Stearne spread him open. Biting his lips, Matthew told himself not to make a sound. He wanted no part of this and he knew John would only derive a sick sense of satisfaction from his cries.

“What a lovely sight,” John said as he dragged a finger along the cleft of Hopkins' ass. “What a pity this particular orifice doesn’t get slick like a whore’s cunt.”

Reflexively, Matthew clenched.

“Don’t worry, Matthew,” Stearne declared as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ll be gentle. I’ve fucked my fair share of holes in my time. I’ll make this as pleasurable as I can.”

Finding it more and more difficult to draw air into his lungs, Hopkins realized he was on the verge of hysteria. Like some of the women they interrogated, he was breaking beneath the full force of Stearne’s attentions. No wonder they confessed. It was brutally clear to him now that his lieutenant’s methods were beyond immoral.

His muscles tensed in fear.

A huff of hot breath against his nethers made him jump. And what came next made him want to crawl out his skin. A tongue, it could have only been a tongue, slick with spit was lapping at his most sensitive of regions.

“John, no,” Matthew groaned.

“Shhh,” Stearne hushed him. “I’m just getting you wet.”

Pinpricks of moisture in the corners of his closed eyes threatened to well up into actual tears and Mathew tried to steady himself against the inevitable. The fact that he could hear John unlacing the front of his own trousers and pulling out his cock did nothing to help his resolve.

Sounds of Stearne licking his hand and then rubbing himself to erection was all it took for Matthew’s determination to break. The tears came and clung to his lashes as he began to beg.

“John, please, don’t do this. I swear to you, if you stop now, we can forget this ever happened. Please, just stop.”

“Quit your wailing,” Stearne sneered. “I’ve spent too long yearning for something you will never give me. The time has come. I’m finally taking what I want.”

The hands were on his backside once more and Matthew could actually feel John’s cock rubbing along his taint. Squirming in panic, he clenched his teeth and tightened his sphincter.

“This would be easier,” the lieutenant grunted as he pushed the blunt head of his cock at the entrance of his friend’s back passageway, “if you were slicker. But I’ve run out of spit and I doubt you’d be willing to suck my cock without trying to bite.”

“No,” Matthew said, the word tumbling from his lips over and over again until it lost all meaning. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no….”

All his efforts and words were for not as Hopkins felt his muscles fail him and give way to the other man’s member. Searing and stabbing pain surged in his rectum as he was forcefully sodomized.

A strung-out noise was wrung from his throat, somewhere between a gasp and a cry.

“John, no…”

“Fuck you’re tight,” Stearne said with unbridled glee. “Hold on, Matthew. We’re not done yet.”

As the lieutenant pulled back out, Matthew tried not to scream. This pain was worse and part of him didn’t want John to move at all if it would mean putting the agony he was feeling to a stop. Then John rammed his cock into Matthew’s ass once more and this time he really did scream.

But they were too far away from anyone in the castle to hear his screams and Matthew knew all too well that no one was coming to rescue him.

With every thrust, the pain became more and more unbearable and it felt like John was fucking him with a hot blade instead of merely his penis. The tight grip on his haunches brought his hips up to angle which made it impossible for him to do anything more than weakly struggle.

Matthew really wished he had died when Stearne had first wrapped that rope around his throat. Death was far better than this.

It also didn’t help that disgusting words kept falling from the lieutenant’s lips.

“You know you want it,” John said with a thrust. “You are no different than every whore who has climbed into my bed.”

Matthew’s only response was to shriek in misery though his cries were decreasing in volume as his voice began to give out in honest.

“Do you hear me, Matthew? You are no better than a whore,” John carried on. “A fucking whore.”

Something tore inside him and Hopkins felt his whole body spasm in pain. Still, Stearne continued to ram his cock in and out of Matthew’s body. Though, after a few more thrusts, he began to laugh.

“Oh, Matthew, if you could see yourself. You are bleeding like a virgin. I suppose I should be honored to deflower such a strong and venerable man.”

The pain was unceasing. But it was more than just physical pain. Hopkins knew that it was more than just his body that Stearne was defiling and desecrating.

“You’re pretty pink hole is so eager and hungry for my cock and my seed. Should I give it to you?”

Tears had moistened the stone beneath his face and Matthew wondered if John expected a response.

“Come on, Matthew,” John huffed. “Tell me what I want to hear and it will all be over.”

Hopkins felt broken as he was sorely tempted to comply with John’s demands.

“How much pain can you stand?” Stearne asked, the delight in his voice clear as day. “I can keep going, you know. I can also leave you here and come back for another round later.”

The mere idea of having this happen a second time gutted the last of Hopkins' resolve and the words flew from his lips before he had time to think through what he was saying.

“Give it to me,” he said, his voice so hoarse it was barely audible.

“Louder.”

Clearing his throat, Hopkins tried again.

“Give it to me.”

“Give what to you?”

“Give me your seed.”

“Say my name.”

“John,” Matthew cried, his voice shaking and breaking just like his soul, “give me your seed.”

Stearne had no reply but his motions above Matthew became more erratic until finally, he stopped moving as his hips bucked into the man below him of their own accord.

“Fuck,” John muttered, collapsing on top of Hopkins.

Matthew did not move and did not speak. He was relieved it was over but knew what had just happened between him and John was enough to send them both to the gallows. Eventually, the cock in his ass softened to the point that it came out and Hopkins grimaced as he felt a mixture of his own blood and John’s ejaculate trickle out of him.

His passions now sated, it appeared Stearne was having doubts about the actions he had just taken.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Matthew… holy fuck.”

Hopkins was well beyond caring about how John was feeling. Actually, he was well beyond feeling anything at this point. The emotions that had surged through his system during the assault were now gone, leaving him despondent and shivering. The room around him seemed to be spinning and the edges of his vision blurred. Closing his eyes against the cacophony of the world around him, Matthew soon found himself unconscious.

******

Blinking against the bright light of the sun streaming into the room, Matthew wondered if he was dead and in heaven. Disoriented as he was, he quickly noticed the beautiful angel sitting in a chair next to the bed in which he lay. Her arms folded and her head tilted off to the side, she was asleep but her slumber only made her more beautiful.

Except, he suddenly remembered, he could not possibly be in heaven, not after what John had done to him. There was no escaping the sin in which he had been forced to bear. He was hell-bound, that was for sure.

Stirring from his position, Matthew tried to slip from the confines of the bedclothes that he might kneel upon the floor and beg the Lord’s forgiveness in prayer.

“Matthew?” the angel, spoke. “What are you doing? Get back in bed.”

“Taryn,” he croaked softly, suddenly remembering her name. “Pray with me.”

Taking the hand she proffered, he pulled her down on the floor next to him as he mouthed silent prayer after silent prayer. The solid wood floor beneath his knees made his joints ache but still, he knelt and offered his supplication unto the Lord for forgiveness. He would’ve said the words aloud if he could but his throat was still painfully irritated from getting throttled and subsequently screaming his lungs out.

At least Taryn did not try to stop him from praying. Instead, she knelt with him, allowing him to clasp her hands in his. Just her presence was comforting and he was grateful for it.

It was only after he felt he had fully bared his soul to the Lord did he turn to Taryn and let her assist him into getting back into the bed.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice grating against the abused cords of his throat.

“Here,” she said, getting a tumbler of water and bringing it to his lips, “drink this.”

Gratefully, he drank the refreshing liquid as he listened to Taryn explain how he had come to be back with her.

“The guards at the castle found you late last night. They think you and John were attacked by demons summoned by the witches. They couldn’t find him but they brought you back to the inn. I had them carry you upstairs to our room. They wanted to call for a priest and a doctor but I convinced them to hold off. I remember that most doctors in this day and age have no knowledge of germs and think bloodletting is a viable treatment for everything that ails a person.”

A weak smile played across his lips as he was slightly comforted by the fact that Taryn was still very much herself, spouting off knowledge involuntarily.

“No witch did this to me,” Matthew muttered, putting the cup on the floor next to the bed.

“It was John, wasn’t it?”

Hopkins nodded.

Unwilling to tell her the whole truth, he said, “We had a disagreement. We fought. I lost consciousness. Woke up here with you.”

“Matthew,” Taryn replied, taking his hand and looking him directly in the eyes. “I want to make this very clear. There is nothing that could have happened to you that would make me think you are any less of a man or that I love you any less. Do you understand me?”

Brushing most of her remarks to the side, he smiled as he said, “I like hearing you say that you love me.”

“I do love you,” she stated fervently. “I love you more than I can put into words. But I won’t pretend like I don’t know what happened to you. I won’t pretend like I don’t know why your first reaction to waking up was to immediately start to pray.”

“I would be remiss in not thanking the Lord for sending me an angel like you,” Hopkins bluffed, kissing her hand and drawing her closer.

“Matthew,” Taryn said solemnly, “I cleaned you up after they left. I found the markings on your wrists from being tied up and I found the blood when I removed your pants.”

“No,” Matthew gasped. “Please, Taryn, please tell me you don’t think that I—“

“I know,” she interrupted him. “I know that whatever happened to you was not your choice. You did not choose him and you did not choose to be a victim of his wicked ways. But I also know this, I know that you fought back and I know you survived. And that is the most important thing to me, that you survived. I could not bear to lose you, my love.”

Tears of compassion had started it stream down Taryn’s face and Matthew was moved by her words. Drawing her into his embrace, he pressed a kiss into the soft waves of her hair.

“I could not bear to lose you either,” he whispered.

******

Standing on the bow of the ship, John looked at the horizon. He was on his way to the colonies and a new life. After what had happened between him and Matthew, he could not stomach the possibility of running into his old friend ever again.

He should’ve killed the witch hunter general after the man had passed out on the cold stone floor but John hadn’t lied when he had told Matthew that he loved him. Hence why instead of slitting Hopkins' throat, he instead cut away the bindings around the man’s wrists before fleeing the castle grounds.

Even as he left, he knew if Matthew ever saw him again, he would be a dead man. His only option was to leave the country. And so he had done exactly that. Still, a gnawing sense of dread filled his belly as John looked out across the waves. It would be weeks until they reached the shores of the Americas and Stearne had already gotten off on the wrong foot with some of the sailors.

It didn’t matter, he told himself. He was a paying passenger and, as such, he was not subjugated to the slights and whims of the crew.

What he didn’t know was that the crew were already whispering about him behind his back.

“That one there be ill-luck, I’m telling ye,” said one crew member to another. “Has a bad air about him, that one does.”

Agreeing the other sailor replied, “Aye, like Jonas from the scripture.”

“He’s a Jonas, alright. And we all know what the Lord would have us do with the likes of him.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story even if you haven't read Adam's book. However, if you are interested in reading her novel, you can find it [here](https://www.amazon.com/Witch-Hunter-Candace-Adams-ebook/dp/B088VMP6MY).


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